Adept
by Midget Alien
Summary: Seventeen yearold Sirius Black is destroying yet another teacher's classroom and sanity. In his seventh year he can't help but get revenge for all the assignments he has been forced to copy off other students!


Adept

Disclaimer: Everything within this story is © of J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_ series. The only thing I claim ownership to is the plot!

"Adept! That is what you must become, live-breath-eat-sleep-and-die, if you wish to pass my class, Mr. Black. Adept!" spat the furrow-browed professor down at his inadequate pupil, in one breath.

Sirius frowned slightly at the small Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher standing in front of him. Adept…he could use that very word to describe a good deal of his traits. Patience, unfortunately, was not one of them. He was _adept_ at transfiguration. He was _adept_ at shoving Snivellus' filthy nose into the dirt repeatedly. He was _adept_ at wooing young ladies such as the one sitting in front of him. These traits fit his standards quite well, but the staff at Hogwarts hadn't quite caught on to his standards.

"Well?" yelled the professor, rudely snapping Sirius out of his thoughts.

"Well what?" asked Sirius coolly.

He should have stopped right there. The innocent, unfazed tone had already been pushing the envelope. Sirius, however, wanted more than just to _push _it. He wanted to completely open it and achieve sweet revenge. It was his seventh year putting up with this teacher and he wanted revenge for every lousy essay he had been forced to copy from others, every hour upon hour wasted filling his parchment with unneeded (yet very accurate) muscular images of himself, and the one plan that had faulted because the DADA professor had harbored a cold at the wrong time. This was personal. It was war. The time had come for revenge and he was going to seize it.

"You've given me a statement. You _told_ me I had to be adept. You didn't ask if I wanted to. You didn't ask if I was going to. You didn't even bother to ask what I thought of the fine specimen in front of me!" the girl whipped around and Sirius nodded simply, "...Excellent, by the way…You gave me a statement, professor, and I absorbed it," rambled on Sirius, trying only slightly to keep the tease out of his voice and the grin off of his face, "Well?"

Oops. It was like something snapped inside the professor. Years of having to put up with the show off caught up with him. The wheels within his head began to rev at full speed. His face scrunched up, turned past red to purple, and looked about to explode. The two tiny black orbs seemed set on fire as they glared upon Sirius from behind miniature spectacles malevolently.

Sever students around and behind Sirius took in huge gulps of air and shock and suspense filled the room like a suffocating wave. It seemed that only those in front who couldn't see the professor's expression clearly and Sirius Black himself were unalarmed. On the contrary, the expression gave Sirius a great feeling of accomplishment mingling in the area of tranquility. That made for of his teacher he had completely ruined…this year alone, only four more to go.

Now wobbling slightly, the professor held his finger and inch from the Gryffindor seventh year's face. With what seemed the last of his strength, the professor leaned in and spat into Sirius' ear, "My office, eight o'clock. Every night for three months! Your games are over!"

Turning quickly, the professor headed to the door. Half way his anger blurred his vision and he rammed straight into his desk. With a crack and a whoosh the short little man was sent flying through the air and landed sprawled with his head against the front left leg of Sirius' chair. His eyes rolled around slightly, an insane expression overcoming his features.

Unable to contain himself for another second Sirius rested his head onto his hand and leaned over the edge of the desk to peer at his sputtering authority head, "Some one of your age and abilities, professor should have mastered, or, dare I say, be _adept_ at the fine art of walking.

Like a spring, the professor leapt up from the floor and flung himself out his open classroom door, slamming it behind himself.

The class broke into hush murmurs. A few around the newly reappointed hero slapped him upon the back or offered him words of congratulations. Sirius leaned back slightly in his chair as an accomplished grin slip over his handsome features. He began to lose himself in thought once again. Sirius absentmindedly ran his fingers through his rich, raven-colored hair as he began planning his detention encounter and escape…

SMACK! The book came down with such force that it was enough to revive the sleeping seventh ear. Darting his eyes around quickly Sirius remembered that the first step of the prank was over…part two, the punishment and escape, had begun.

"Copy! Copy! Copy!" barked out the professor, gesturing towards the book. Without another word he turned on his heels and marched back to his desk. With a fleeting, almost nervous, last glance in Sirius' general direction the irritated man took out a stack of papers and began to grade them quickly and rather violently. Every now and then he would rip one and bark a spell at the parchment, enabling it to mend itself.

Sirius rolled his stone gray eyes in irritation almost equal to that of his present antagonist. It was as though the dimwitted, washed out professor actually thought Sirius was going to copy some dead guy's history. Sirius reached into his bag and brought out a quill and roll of parchment. First testing the quill on the parchment, Sirius proceeded to add dramatic features and weapons to the hero's picture adjacent to the text.

Reaching a state of boredom that could no longer be contained within the new and improved picture Sirius drew the parchment towards him and began to scratch out a note to James. Finishing with a smirk, Sirius checked to make sure the professor was still grading before bewitching the parchment to fly out cracked window and on to the grounds below. Hopefully James was outside as planned…hopefully.


End file.
